The reaction by Ed and the crew was so fast, and so quick. Equipment had failed, crew members were all over the place, yet we all managed to pick ourselves up. Within minutes everything was back under control. The old sails were down, we had new sails up, and we were off. In no time, we were powering off again to finish the race.1
Samantha had sailed on other boats, but she was taken aback by the speed and seamless recovery exhibited by the Ramblers. Teams at The Edge need to start recovering while they're still in the water, and then move quickly to finish the race.
Measure success in terms of recovery time
Once problems are accepted as inevitable, it follows that setbacks do not equal failure. To maximize performance, teams need to take risks—and some of those risks may flip the boat.
Because the team's focus should be on its ability to recover from mistakes, the amount of time needed for recovery is a key metric for judging performance. While recovery will never be instantaneous, teams can aspire to spending an ever decreasing amount of time putting the pieces back together.
Don't break the boat
Once the Midnight Rambler made it through the storm, the crew started pushing the boat hard again. The winds were still blowing at gale force, and the seas were rough. But after what the Ramblers had been through, Ed thought it was “like a walk in the park.” And he was determined to press the limits and make up for lost time.
Bob Thomas went below and charted the position of every boat he could locate. He found that AFR Midnight Rambler was winning the race by a very large margin. The news was uplifting, and as Bob recalls:
I came on deck. We were sailing with a full main. We were a little bit overpowered, and I said to Ed, “We're in a bit of a hammer position here. If we can stay in one piece, we should be able to win this race.” Then I said, “I think we could probably use a reef in the main now.” I thought if we could keep the boat in one piece, we'd be very difficult to beat.2
Ed Psaltis has a slightly different recollection. He knew that they were sailing hard. It was exciting that they were sailing past bigger boats, and they were speeding past boats that were their own size. Ed remembers:
I was thinking, keep pushing, pushing, pushing—push as hard as we could. And Bob came up on deck and said, “Look, don't do this. Don't crack any gears, just maintain. Don't lose it. Don't break the boat because we are in such a fantastic position!”3
Whether Bob actually said “Don't break the boat,” or whether that's what Ed heard, makes little difference. What is important is that Ed took Bob's advice. For the next twelve hours they were still racing hard—but also making sure that they stayed in one piece and finished the race. In spite of his passion to win, Ed understood that it was important to “never lose sight of the ultimate goal.” He adds, “I had to avoid getting too excited, pushing too hard, and cracking something!”
As important as it is to seamlessly recover from setbacks and shift back into racing mode, it is equally important to avoid overcorrecting. Recovery needs to be rapid but also measured. Teams at The Edge have to be able to put the pieces back together and then calmly push as hard as they can, without breaking the boat.
Navigation Points
1. Does your team accept problems and challenges as part of doing business—something to be anticipated and overcome? Or do they see setbacks as cause for alarm and panic?
2. Can your team assess the situation when things go awry and calmly take corrective action?
3. Does your team track recovery time as a metric for success?
4. If problems occur, does your team respond without overcorrecting when trying to make up for lost time? Can they push hard without breaking the boat?
40
Tenacious Creativity
Strategy #10
Never give up—there's always another move.
Teams that succeed in the face of extreme adversity share two complementary characteristics: They persevere in the face of enormous odds, and they devise imaginative solutions to problems. These two elements—determination and creativity under pressure—make a team unstoppable.
All the Ramblers brought their own sense of resolve to the team. For Ed Psaltis, his determination started in sports:
I played rugby football and was reasonably good. I might not have had as much talent as my other schoolmates, but I had a lot of tenacity. I never gave up. If we lost a game, I came back twice as hard the next time. Tenacity is something I've always had in anything I've done in life—business or sports. I don't give up. I keep at it until I get to the goal.1
Individual tenacity was important, but it was the combined effort of the team that enabled them to not only persist but also to innovate in the most stressful and life-threatening situations.
In the ’94 Hobart, when Nuzulu was rolled and lost its mainsail, things seemed truly hopeless. The Ramblers were disappointed and demoralized. They had come close to drowning, and they had no chance of winning the race. It would have been easy to pull out.
Yet they came together as a team, and they found the determination to persevere. Mix Bencsik created a catalytic moment with his resolute statement: “Don't even think about pulling out of this race. We have gotten this far and we have to finish the race. If we do, we will remember this as one of our proudest moments.”
The race became a milestone for the Ramblers—but only because they were able to combine tenacity with creativity. Arthur Psaltis recalls:
We tried a number of different jury-rigged systems that didn't work. But the solution was staring us in the face: We could create a series of knots that we could put into the mast, and then tie some knots onto the sail. Once we'd done it, it was obvious how it could work. But it took hours of thinking to come up with the solution, and we were going sideways all that time. It looked hopeless, but we really wanted to finish. By constantly thinking about what we needed to do, the solution finally came.2
The solution did emerge, but it didn't come from a think tank in Silicon Valley. It came from a group of guys who had just recovered from a capsize. It came from their determination to devise a way to finish a race they knew they couldn't win. And it was one of their proudest moments.
The unyielding tenacity that the Ramblers demonstrated in 1994 stayed with them through other daunting times. It was there in 1998, when they encountered hurricane force winds and walls of water twice the size of their boat. It was there when they needed to devise a crew management system to survive the storm. And it was there near the end of the race, when they lost their navigation instruments and were fighting dying winds in the Derwent River.
The same spark of creativity that had enabled them to devise a makeshift sail on Nuzulu helped them on the Derwent. Improvising once again, the Ramblers created a makeshift wind instrument by breaking a cassette and fastening the tape to the mast so they could judge the wind direction. It wasn't elegant—but it worked.
The Ramblers’ ability to persevere has been displayed on many occasions, and one of the most memorable examples came in a 2007 race. On a pitch-black night, with a hard southerly wind and big seas, their mainsail burst. They could have turned around—numerous other boats did. But surrender is not a word in the team's vocabulary. The Ramblers sailed on through the night to Flinders Island, turned around, and made it home, completing the “out and back” race that was part of the Blue Water Point Score series.
Because conditions were so difficult and so many boats retired, even with their small storm sail the Ramblers still finished in third place. When the season was over, AFR Midnight Rambler had won the coveted Blue Water Point Score by two points. If they had retired, they wouldn't have won the series.
Tom Barker—another newcomer to the team—shared his observations on the 2007 competition:
That race was a good metaphor for the crew's approach to racing. Even when conditions are tough and everything is stacked against us, we find an answer to make our way through. Finishing the race was important and it is a testament to the cre
w. When those other boats turned around and retired and headed home, we were still out there.3
This strategy, then, is a state of mind—a set of lenses for viewing the world. It is grounded in the belief that the team will succeed, but it is much more than stubborn persistence. It is based in reality. If a solution isn't working, then it's time to try something else.
The Ramblers—and other teams that succeed at The Edge—maintain an unshakable belief that somehow, somewhere, there must be a path that will get them to the finish line. As Ed Psaltis observed, “When the chips are really down, our mentality is—never give up. There is always another move, and always another option.”
Navigation Points
1. Does your team persevere in the face of adversity?
2. When faced with setbacks, is your team able to think creatively and develop innovative solutions?
3. Are there “proud moments” in the history of your team—times when the team has come together and exhibited tenacious creativity?
4. Do you draw inspiration from stories of other teams that have worked together to overcome daunting challenges? Does your team share stories as a source of inspiration?
A Note to the Skipper
There are two central themes in this book. The first is the importance of exceptional teamwork in overcoming challenges at The Edge. The second is the value of distributed leadership—a team culture that allows every person to provide direction when he or she has expertise that will help the team succeed.
The story of AFR Midnight Rambler exemplifies the power of exceptional teamwork and distributed leadership. But where does this leave a formal team leader—the skipper of a boat, the CEO of a corporation, the commanding officer of a military unit, or the President of the United States, for that matter? Is there a unique role that he or she needs to play?
I believe there are unique responsibilities that come with the territory of being the formal leader. This is not to suggest that the leader needs to be an imposing, charismatic figure. As Rakesh Khurana notes in Searching for a Corporate Savior,1 the irrational quest for charismatic leadership places a premium on fame and personality rather than experience and ability. And he goes on to argue that this misplaced focus can lead to a decline in corporate performance, with long-term consequences.
I agree with the fundamental premise. Charisma and force of personality are hardly the most important characteristics for a skipper in an ocean race—or for the leader of a business team. But personality aside, there are some critical things—some unique responsibilities—that fall to the skipper.
The leader needs to keep the team aligned.
The varied performance of boats in the Sydney to Hobart Race—particularly in 1998—underscores the importance of having a coherent, unified team. Some boats, like the Midnight Rambler, demonstrated extraordinary cohesiveness even under the most terrifying, life-threatening conditions. At the other end of the alignment continuum, some crews were fragmented, with key team members at odds with each other—in a leadership vacuum.
Other boats, like Sayonara, were somewhere in the middle. Larry Ellison, as the owner, could impose his will on the crew, and everyone acquiesced to his decision. But this is not the same level of alignment that we saw in the Rambler. Resigned acquiescence is not the same as aligned commitment, and gaining that commitment requires leadership.
Adrienne Cahalan, considered one the world's best navigators, has had a chance to observe the role of the leader in more than twenty-five years as a professional competitive sailor. She has been named AustralianYachts-woman of the Year twice—and has been nominated four times for World Yachtswoman of the Year.
Adrienne characterized the leader's role:
Skippers need to keep the team focused and pull everybody together. They need to keep an eye out to see if someone is wavering, or a faction developing. They need to have the skill to manage all the personalities, to bring them together and to get them focused on the common goal. Not everybody's perfect, so a good leader is able to deal with imperfections. And they need to be able to do it all under pressure.2
Managing personalities and bringing people together can be challenging in any situation. But the pressure of a race—or, even worse, a storm—calls for exceptional leadership.
The leader needs to demonstrate passion.
The leader's passion is a magnetic force that pulls other people in. And Ed Psaltis’ passion stands out, especially to relative newcomers to the crew.
Describing the impact of Ed's will to win, Samantha Byron said:
No boat had ever won both the Blue Water Point Score and the Short Ocean Point Score in the same year. It was a bold goal that had never been achieved before. But it was Ed's vision, and it became the team vision, and then it became my vision.
I think what makes Ed an exceptional leader is his complete drive to win. He is committed to driving the boat as fast as it can go. And he can take risks because of his comfort and trust in the team.3
No one who has ever sailed with Ed Psaltis has any doubt about his absolute, total commitment to winning. He is so passionate that his excitement sometimes needs to be offset—by humor, or by the composure of others. But there is no mistaking the electric spark that comes from a leader who is excited to win. That enthusiasm is contagious, and it is a contagion that leads to victory.
The leader needs to instill optimism and confidence that the team will succeed.
Ed Psaltis and Bob Thomas had a close relationship—reminiscent of Ernest Shackleton and Frank Wild, the second in command on the Endurance Expedition. They had complementary personalities, with Bob's cool demeanor balancing Ed's passion.
Both Ed Psaltis and Bob Thomas joined forces during the storm, and their combined leadership provided a reassuring presence for the crew. Mix Bencsik recalls:
The leadership example set by Ed and Bob was quite symbolic. Their leadership played a large part in keeping our motivation going, and in making sure that no one gave up.
Bob is a noble seaman by trade. He understands storms, and he has been through a lot at sea. We have a lot of confidence in his ability.
Ed and Bob constantly instilled optimism and confidence that we could handle the conditions, and that the crew had the ability to win.4
While there was no question about Ed Psaltis’ formal role as skipper, Ed and Bob together reinforced a sense of unified leadership. And because of their close personal relationship, they were able to send a joint message of reassurance and optimism.
The leader needs to set an example.
It may seem somewhat ironic that Ed Psaltis—one of the best amateur sailors in the world—gets seasick. But being a great sailor doesn't inoculate him, or anyone else, from a physiological response to motion. As Ed sees it:
Being seasick isn't a problem. If you are sick, no one is going to be upset about that. We are only going to be upset if you don't do your job—if you start missing watches and letting your team down, that's when it's a problem.
When I'm sick, I always try to make sure that I get up very, very quickly, because everyone is watching me. Then I'll smile and make a joke and people will go, Well, okay, he's not too bad after all.5
Ed realizes that people are watching him in his role as the skipper. And how he reacts to being sick is the critical issue, not the seasickness itself.
This is true for a number of other things that Ed does in a conscious effort to set an example. Coming off his watch as helmsman, Ed will take a forward position on the rail. In this exposed position, he is subjected to the first onslaught of water and spray. It is cold and uncomfortable, but it is clear that Ed is not afraid to do his share.
Ed will also take his turn in “the bad bunk.” It seems that every boat comes equipped with a berth that—for one reason or another—is undesirable. Nobody wants the bad bunk, but Ed makes sure that he takes his turn. He is sending a message.
In his compelling book, In Extremis Leadership, Colonel Thomas Kolditz makes the point that leaders
need to avoid elitism and share a common lifestyle with other members of the team:
We believe that in extremis leaders accept, even embrace, a lifestyle that is common to their followers as an expression of values, and that such values become part of their presence and credibility as leaders. There is an inspirational Quaker saying that underscores the value of a transparent lifestyle: “Let your life speak.” The idea is that followers come to understand values by watching the leader.6
Leaders need to set an example through lifestyle and the normal course of simply getting the job done. But there are some moments that are different. There are times when leaders need to inspire others though fortitude, courage, and skill. One such moment came for Ed Psaltis in the 1998 Sydney to Hobart Race.
I spoke with Michael Bencsik about his impressions of the ‘98 race, and Mix described this vivid moment:
I've been through a lot of storms with Ed. Sitting on the side of the boat—wave spotting while he was helming in those conditions—was something that made me feel really proud. I thought, Here's a person who has my life completely in his hands. He was performing extraordinary feats of strength and seamanship, holding a 35-foot boat on the right course in those conditions.
Ed was giving more than 110 percent. The well-being of the boat and crew were in his hands, and he didn't falter. It was an outstanding feat of seamanship. Even to this day, it's quite emotional to talk about. That was his finest moment.7
Into the Storm Page 27
